


Piece Me Back Together

by teatearsandbbc



Series: Of Love and Violence [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angelic Grace, Fluff, Healing, M/M, Smut, Wing Kink, really fluffy fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-14 19:00:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1277386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teatearsandbbc/pseuds/teatearsandbbc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean gets injured on a hunt and Cas heals him, though not in the traditional way.  Written for Tumblr user arithenerd, this is the fluffiest fluff to ever fluff with a healthy dose of smut mixed in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Piece Me Back Together

“Dean!” Cas shouted.

He had whirled just in time to see the vampire’s knife slash across Dean’s forehead, sending blood spurting down his face.  Dean roared and stumbled backwards, clutching his wound and trying to wipe thick blood out of his eye. 

Cas was by his side in an instant.  He didn’t bother with the machete Dean had dropped.  He simply grabbed the vampire’s head in his hands and twisted.  Hard.  He tossed the head away; the body fell to the ground like a ragdoll, limp on the dirt floor next to the corpse of his brethren.  Cas rushed to Dean’s side, holding him up with one hand and stripping off his outer shirt with the other.

“Dean?  Dean, are you okay?” he demanded frantically.  He balled up the shirt and pressed it against the hunter’s forehead, sopping up the flow of blood.

“Yeah, Cas, I’m fine,” Dean said roughly.  “Just mojo us out of here before the cops show up.  Damn vamps can’t even pick a discreet place to hide.  Has to be out in the middle of the-“

Hardly anyone in the motel noticed the rush of wings in room 208.  One small child tugged on her mother’s hand but was hurried along.

“-world,” Dean finished, trying to get his bearings again before pitching forward.  Transporting that way always threw him off a bit; with the blood loss, it was too much.  His vision faded and he sagged against Cas.

The angel half-carried Dean to the bed and gently laid him down on the sheets.  He wet a hand towel in the sink and began to wipe blood off the hunter’s face, using tender strokes so as not to hurt him.  Dean came to after a few minutes, just as Cas had started determining the extent of his wounds.  He cupped the young man’s face and stared into the slow-opening green eyes.

“Cas?” Dean said, squinting into the light.

“Yes.  I am here.”

“Ah, Cas.  Mind fixing me?”

“Of course, Dean,” he said.  Normally when he was healing humans, Cas would simply tap two fingers against their forehead and heal all their wounds instantly.  But Dean was his hunter. He required a more personal touch.  Cas loved this man and Dean needed to see it.  An idea sparked into his head and the angel smiled.

He cradled Dean’s head in his hands and lowered his lips to the hunter’s forehead, kissing there light as a feather.  Dean sighed in relief as he felt the skin knit itself back together, leaving only a trail of blood flowing lost across unbroken skin. 

Cas continued, lips following a trail across Dean’s face—kissing his black eye, his scraped cheek, his ever-so-slightly razor-burned jaw.  His Grace healed the wounds, restoring Dean’s normal beauty.  Lastly, he kissed Dean’s split lips and healed those too.  Dean kissed him back softly and brought a hand up to Cas’s face, but he winced slightly.  Cas noticed his pain and pulled back.

“Where else?”

“My shoulder.  I think I jammed it,” Dean said.  Cas dropped a whisper of a kiss on his hunter’s lips again before pressing his mouth to the injured shoulder.

“I think I cracked a couple of ribs,” Dean said, sounding just slightly breathless.  Cas suspected this had nothing to do with the ribs in question, and smiled as he kissed each of Dean’s sides.

“My hip?”  Cas slid Dean’s shirt up slowly and pushed down his pants just enough to be able to press his mouth against the tanned skin of the hunter’s hips.

“Where else?” he whispered.  His voice was danger and sex and Dean’s favorite beer and strong fingers through dark, messy hair.

“I stubbed my toe,” Dean said.  Cas laughed a little against his hip and slid down his body.  Slowly, carefully, he untied the hunter’s boots and slid them off his feet.  His socks followed suit and then Cas’s warm weight was gone.  Dean picked up his head and watched the angel walk over to the sink, conjuring a basin out of thin air.  He filled it with warm water and soap and then set it on the TV stand. 

With his blue-as-drowning eyes locked on Dean, he removed his trench coat.  His suit jacket followed, fabric sliding slowly off the strong shoulders.  Cas was never this unclothed and just the sight of him in a dress shirt and tie did more for Dean than any scantily clad stripper.  Cas loosened his tie.  He gauged his movements on where Dean’s gaze lingered.  Eyes at his throat, he let his fingers brush just slightly over his Adam’s apple.  Gaze fixed on his hands, he let his fingers tug at the knot.  He finally removed tie, dragging his fingers through his hair as he pulled it over his head, and laid all the clothing over a chair.  He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, again watching the way Dean’s gaze ran over his forearms, and tossed a towel across his shoulder. 

Picking up the basin again, he returned to the bottom of the bed and picked up Dean’s right foot.  Dean laid his head back as the angel soaked the towel in the water and wrapped it around Dean’s foot.  Gently, he washed away the grime and miles, pressing his thumbs into the arches and rubbing the towel softly over his foot.  When he had finished with the right, Cas moved on to the left, giving it the same careful treatment.  The symbolism did not escape Dean’s notice.  An angel of the Lord, a vastly powerful being of light and stardust, a creature that had been around since the dawn of the universe was kneeling at his feet, washing them.  The tender concentration Cas poured into his task told Dean he was aware of this as well.  When both of Dean’s feet were clean and soft, Cas pressed his mouth to the arch of the hunter’s foot.

“You know the symbolic significance of foot washing,” Cas said, his lips brushing against Dean’s foot.

“Yes,” Dean whispered.

“And you know the significance of kissing someone’s feet,” Cas said, kissing the bottom of Dean’s other foot.

“Yes.”

“And you know who and what I am.”

“Yes,” Dean said, nearly overwhelmed with wonder.  He knew who Cas was.  The angel had come bursting into his life like a comet when he pulled Dean out of Hell.  He had rebuilt him from nothing but fragmented skin and soul and pain and his own memory.  Dean had seen him do things he had never thought possible, perform miracles, not the least of which was restoring his faith in God, in angels, and in a meaningful and abiding love.  Dean had battled monsters and demons, grappled with gods, died again and again, fought against the darkest forces in the cosmos and defeated the Devil himself and yet, out of everything he had seen, Castiel was the most wondrous.

“Then you need to understand this.  There are very few beings in the universe for whom I would do this.  There are fewer yet who would be deserving of it.  And you, Dean Winchester, are deserving.” 

Castiel’s eyes were fixed on Dean and the hunter felt as though he was melting under the gaze. 

“You need to understand that.  You are worthy of being saved.  You are worthy of worship and praise and all the love I can give you.  You are worthy of the highest honors the universe has to bestow.” 

He kissed the inside of Dean’s ankle. 

“You don’t remember the first time I saw you, but I do.” 

His mouth moved up a little higher, pressing against the inside of the hunter’s calf, lips meeting rough denim. 

“You were torn to shreds.  You were as low as you could be.”  

He kissed his inner thigh. 

“And yet, you were still so beautiful.  There was a brightness that held inside of you.  You had been in Hell for forty years.  By that point, most souls would have died.  But you hung on.  And I took you in my arms.” 

His mouth brushed against the bulge in Dean’s jeans and the hunter shuddered. 

“I picked up the shattered pieces of you and I spread my wings wide.” 

As he said this, Dean could hear a rushing of feathers and his breath caught in his throat. 

“And I brought you back to the world of the living and the kingdom of light.” 

Cas’s slim fingers had been slowly undoing buttons on his white dress shirt and he slid it off his shoulders.  Dean trembled. 

“You were not finished here on Earth and as we rose back to remembrance, I remade you.” 

Dean could see huge, shimmering shapes begin to move behind Castiel’s back. 

“I drew you back together and I fused you into wholeness, mapped out the pattern of your freckles, molded the lines of your chest.” 

The shapes were beginning to take form. 

“And do you know what God said when he looked upon you when you burst out into the sun?” 

Dean realized he was holding his breath as he shook his head. 

“He declared you were good.” 

With that, Cas brought his wings into full form, massive and dark and the most beautiful thing Dean had ever seen.  His breath whooshed out of his chest and he felt a tear slide down his cheek.  Injuries removed and forgotten, he pushed himself into a sitting position and reached out a hand towards Cas.  The angel smiled and moved close enough that the hunter could bury his fingers in the feathers.  Dean ran his fingertips over the stunning, onyx wings.  He straightened out the feathers that had been knocked out of place and he tugged lightly on the ends of the primaries, grinning a bit when Cas sucked in a breath.  He ran his hands over and through the wings until he could trace them from memory.  The little nook just under the top wing joint.  The place the thin membrane between the feathers ended, just at the top of the primaries.  The delicate solidity of the bones stretching out beneath feathers and skin.  The suggestion of blue that shimmered across the feathers when they turned just the right way, creating a connection between Cas’s hair and his eyes in his wings. 

Dean brought his hands in to the angel’s sides and wrapped his arms around his waist.  He pulled Cas close and sighed as he felt warm skin against his.  He kissed his angel, soft and slow and deep.  Cas cupped his face and draped his wings around them both.  He was so breathtaking.  His chest was tanned and fit, and ran down to give way to a slim waist and hips.  The place between his shoulder blades where his wings erupted was sensitive and Dean skimmed his fingertips over the soft skin.  He smiled when Cas arched into him.  He leaned down and pressed his lips to the other man’s chest before rolling both men over on the bed and beginning to kiss down his chest.  Cas let his wings spill off the edges of the motel bed and down onto the floor and smiled lazily as he felt Dean’s mouth move onto his stomach.  There was no rush to their movements; only a contented sort of love.

The first time they had done this, it had been hard and frantic, all need and desperation and long-ignored want and Dean had pushed Cas against a wall and driven into him as though it would save his life.  They were both left breathless and wild-eyed and it had been weeks before Dean had even been able to bring himself to talk about it.  But in the following months, they had both come to terms with this thing between them and they had spent hours making up for lost time, learning each other in the most intimate way.  And now it was a comfortable thing.  There was no fear, no anger, no desperate, raging doubt that was silenced by bruising kisses.  A deeper love had taken hold and Cas couldn’t help but think now how blessed he was as he watched Dean sit up long enough to pull his soft, grey t-shirt over his head.

The human began working on Cas’s belt and pants as he scraped his teeth lightly over the slender hip bones beneath him.  He raised his hips enough to allow Dean to slide off his pants and boxers and then settled back down into the bed.  Dean sat back and just looked at him, smiling and drinking in the sight before him.  He ran a soft hand over Cas’s thigh, as though trying to decide where to start.  He pumped the angel’s cock once, then leaned down and kissed the inside of his thigh, working his way back to the puckered little hole that would be his undoing.

Dean hooked Cas’s legs over his shoulders and spread his cheeks wide with strong, calloused hands.  He licked his hole once, quickly, drinking in the way his angel shuddered.  He pushed his tongue against his asshole and began to work his way into the other man.  He added a finger to help stretch him open, then another.  Soon he had two fingers deep inside Cas and his tongue slipping in alongside them.  He pulled his fingers out and buried his tongue as deeply in Cas’s ass as he could.  The angel groaned and Dean felt his own cock twinge inside his jeans. 

He stood and began to unbuckle his belt achingly slowly.  Cas raised his head and watched as Dean put on a bit of a strip tease for him.  He slid his jeans off slowly, letting them linger over the curve of his hips.  He shook his ass a tiny bit and felt a warm glow when Cas laughed.  Encouraged, he circled his hips and, sliding his jeans the rest of the way off his hips and letting them fall to the floor, he gave his ass a squeeze.  He bent over, taking total advantage of the way the fabric of his boxers stretched across his hips, and retrieved his jeans.  He folded them carefully before hooking a thumb inside the waist of his boxers.  He removed those too, sliding them slowly off, letting fingers linger on hips and brush over his erection, loving the smile Cas gave him at the sight of his cock finally revealed.  He poured some lube from a nearby bottle into his hand and stroked himself once, twice, three times before he walked back over to the bed.  Cas had his knees up, feet tucked in by his hips.  Dean leaned down and kissed him as he lined himself up.  The angel gave a little nod and he started pushing in slowly.  The sounds that leaked out of Cas’s mouth were unearthly.  They turned into full on moans when Dean buried his hands in his wings, his face in his neck, and his cock in his ass. 

“Dean…” Cas ground out and captured Dean’s lips as the larger man started to thrust.  He could feel the hunter moving inside him, feel himself being stretched and pushed, Dean’s hot, twitching cock pressing against every wall of his body, feel him sliding in his most intimate places.  Dean pushed slowly into him, rocking against him and running fingers through his wings.  Castiel swore that this was his new heaven.  Here, as wrapped up in his hunter as he could be, hanging onto the edge of sanity and thought, sensation after burning, trailing, toe-curling sensation dragging across his body and mind.  He was lost in the depth of this thing, drowning in Dean, Dean, Dean.  He could hear Dean whispering things to him, knew Enochian and English and other languages he had absorbed a thousand lifetimes ago from every realm of the universe were falling from his mouth, but he was too lost to find their meaning.  They hung in that almost-but-not-quite falling place for a second and a day and a hundred thousand years and then Cas heard Dean groan his name into his year.  He clasped Dean’s face between his hands, locked gazes with him, and together, they toppled over the edge, holding onto each other as their worlds flew apart.  Dean’s name was the last thing on Cas’s lips before everything went quiet and he slipped out of consciousness.

When he came to, Cas could feel Dean still inside him, though he was softening.  They were completely wrapped around each other and Cas thanked his Father with every fiber of his celestial being for giving him this man.  He kissed Dean’s forehead softly and the hunter stirred, mumbling quietly.  Cas smiled at the feel of Dean’s lips moving against his throat.

“Hello, Dean,” he said, his voice lower than normal in his relaxation and rumbling somewhere deep in his chest.

“Hey, Cas.”

“Are you okay?”  Cas knew he could have hurt his hunter by mistake and though he was fairly sure he hadn’t, he still worried.  Humans were shockingly fragile.

“Yeah.”  Dean slipped out of him and stretched, testing muscles.  When he determined that everything was in order, he grinned.  “That was some pretty mind-blowing sex.”

“I agree,” Cas smiled.  He kissed Dean and he could taste his hunter’s mirrored joy.  When they pulled away, Dean stifled a yawn.  Cas brushed a hand over his cheek and asked, “Would you like to sleep more?”

“Yeah, I think I would.  Between the hunt and you, I’m beat.  Promise me you’ll stay?”  To a casual listener, Dean’s voice would have sounded completely level, but Cas knew him well enough to detect the slight undertone of panic and the way his fingers tightened against the angel’s wings for a moment.

“Of course, Dean.”  Cas wrapped his wings around them and Dean hummed happily.  He pressed a kiss to Cas’s chest, then settled down in his angel’s arms.  Cas held him close and listened to this righteous man he had fallen for drift off to sleep wrapped up in his wings.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the prompt, arithenerd! Please leave comments and suggestions! I can be found on Tumblr at the same username (teatearsandbbc) and my ask is always open for prompts.


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